


Just a Little More

by ceemobster



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Minimal fluff, be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceemobster/pseuds/ceemobster
Summary: Among the countless times that Clark had watched Bruce fall asleep, three occasions were more memorable than others.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering why certain characters that you think should be present in the fic are not mentioned at all, it's because continuity sucks and I am never sure which timeline or universe my fics take place in. Oh the joy of comics.
> 
> Anyway, I was having trouble with writing the next fic in my batfam series, so I wrote this instead. I'm not sure why...

Among the countless times that Clark had watched Bruce fall asleep, three occasions were more memorable than others.

 

The first occasion was at the Watchtower.

They were on monitor duty and Clark knew that the Batman was horribly sleep-deprived and exhausted even before he told him so. Something about his grunts to Clark’s small-talk sounding even wearier than usual.

“Would you mind if I rested my eyes for a few minutes?” Bruce asked, straightforward as always. “I’m not at my best at the moment and wouldn’t be any good if I kept straining myself.”

Clark nodded. “Of course. It’s been quiet anyway.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t look like anything will come up any time soon.”

Bruce seemed to take a moment to mull over Clark’s words, or perhaps to reconsider his decision to leave Clark on his own. Clark could almost hear the gears inside his head turning. “You sure?” he finally asked.

“Yes, Bruce,” Clark replied and threw in his most reassuring smile for good measure. “You look really tired. Take as much time as you need, I promise I’ll wake you if something comes up.”

Bruce grunted in response, the sort of grunt that Clark had learnt after years of working together was actually a sign of approval.

He expected Bruce to get up from his seat and leave to his private quarter, but that never happened. Instead, Bruce only settled more comfortably against the back of his chair and, to Clark’s surprise, pulled off his cowl. Clark watched in fascination as the hard lines on Bruce’s face began to smoothen out with every second that passed. He wondered just how many hours Bruce had been awake—those dark circles under his closed lids did not look all too well. Between League business and patrolling his own city, Bruce never seemed to get any rest, and Clark found himself wishing that it was different.

But in spite of his sympathy towards Bruce, he felt something else swell in his chest. A few things, actually, though not all of them he completely understood.

The feeling he was most certain of was some sort of childish pride. He felt proud of himself, not only because Bruce trusted him enough to handle monitor duty on his own even if only for a little while, but because Bruce was comfortable enough around Clark to show this… almost _vulnerable_ side of him. It was intimate, in more ways than one, to be privy to this, knowing that Bruce would not let just anyone see him in such a state. Perhaps this was the closest thing that Bruce could ever get to admitting that they were friends. Clark couldn’t help smiling to himself at the thought.

Another emotion currently washing over him felt oddly close to affection… but he decided not to dwell on that for the moment. He was supposed to be working anyway. If Bruce knew Clark had spent the past couple of minutes watching him sleep like a creep instead of watching the monitors… Well, that would not go very well.

With effort, Clark managed to tear his gaze away from his sleeping friend and focused on the screens in front of him, though for some reason, he could not bring himself to stop listening to Bruce’s steady heartbeat. The sound was calming, in a strange way. It was as if Bruce’s relaxation was contagious.

True to his words, Bruce did not remain asleep for long. His eyes fluttered open after only ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Clark told him that he could sleep for longer, just a little more, but he shook his head and wordlessly pulled his cowl back on. The monitors had his unwavering attention for the rest of their shift after that.

Meanwhile, Clark kept thinking that he probably would never forget the first time he saw Bruce fall asleep.

He was right.

\------

The second occasion was at the manor, on Bruce’s very own bed.

By this point, Clark had seen Bruce fall asleep a number of times. But never like this. This time around, it felt delightfully distinct, mainly because Bruce had just finally agreed with him to try to do things the right way. They would go on an actual date, like an actual couple. They would tell their friends and family about their relationship—or at least stop being secretive about it. They would no longer be intimidated by the risks and instead really try to make it work between them. Bruce had rationalised it as overcoming their fears, but Clark did not care much for reasoning. All he knew was that he wanted to be with Bruce.

But perhaps the most important development of the night was that Bruce had _finally_ let him say the L word without kicking him out of bed.

Clark kissed him again, unable to stop himself. Bruce hummed appreciatively into the kiss before pulling away.

“I’m tired, Clark,” he whined. The Batman actually _whined_.

“Just a little more,” Clark replied, and proceeded to pepper kisses all over Bruce’s cheeks and across his nose.

Bruce groaned in a weak attempt at protest, but Clark knew he did not mean it, if the rare, shy smile on his face was any indication.

“Alright, alright,” Clark said, finally pulling away. “I’ll let you sleep now.”

Bruce hummed again and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. His eyes closed not long after that, followed by the steadying of his breathing, bare chest rising and falling under Clark’s hand. It took Clark a while to quit smiling like an idiot even after Bruce had been asleep for long. Frankly, he was giddy, and seeing Bruce looking absolutely _precious_ in deep slumber was not helping abate his excitement.

Eventually, he forced himself to close his eyes, too, knowing that he would always remember this night, probably for as long as he lived. Bruce’s heartbeat slowly lulled him to sleep, and he let his dreams paint pretty pictures of what a future with Bruce would be like.

\------

The third occasion felt familiar in so many ways, and yet so painfully different.

They were in their bedroom at home. Bruce was lying on the bed, while Clark watched from a chair right next to him. Around them were their closest friends and family; Cassandra sat cross-legged on the bed next to Bruce, Damian stood right by the bed next to her, on the bench at the foot of the bed sat Tim and Dick, while Jason, Barbara, Stephanie, and Diana all stood close by. Outside the room waited even more people; Kara, Kon, Kate, Maggie.

Clark’s eyes swept over the children once, who were by no means children anymore. For the umpteenth time that day alone, his heart grieved for how quickly the years seemed to have slipped by. They had been the most wonderful years, but he could not help desperately wishing for a little more time. Just a little more.

Bruce’s voice was hoarse when he called his name.

“Yes, love,” Clark said softly, immediately returning his undivided attention to Bruce. “I’m here.”

Bruce smiled at him weakly, and Clark wanted to cry, but he could not, would not allow himself to. He wanted to be brave for Bruce. _Just a little more_.

“Take my hand.”

Clark blinked back his tears and reached for Bruce’s hand, holding it tightly in both of his own. “I’ve got you.”

Bruce let out a laugh. “You always have,” he said fondly. His gaze then left Clark to travel around the room. “Tell me, have I missed anything?”

“No, Father.” It was Damian who answered. There was a slight quiver in his voice, but his face was brave, much braver than Clark’s. Clark thought he had never looked more like Bruce than he did right now. “I believe you’ve told us everything we needed to know.”

“Good,” Bruce said, nodding at his youngest. “I’m proud of what you’ve become,” Bruce looked at his children one by one, “All of you.”

There were sniffles coming from Dick and Cassandra, and Clark wanted to break, too, but he forced himself to remain steady. _Just a little more_.

Finally, Bruce’s eyes settled on Clark again. In spite of his current condition, they still shone, and Clark willingly let the brilliant blue drown him. “And you?” Bruce asked. “You’ll be alright?”

Clark only nodded, not trusting his voice enough to give a verbal answer. Bruce squeezed his hand, and it was weak, and a silent tear rolled down his cheek despite his best effort.

“You will be,” Bruce whispered, his own eyes pooling with moisture. “I know you will. You’ve always been the stronger one.”

Clark laughed, tried his best to ignore the steady stream now pouring from his eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Bruce chuckled and his hand squeezed Clark’s slightly tighter. A long moment of silence passed in the room until Bruce finally spoke again. “I’m tired, Clark,” he said, and he _did_ sound tired. “I think I’m going to sleep.”

Clark inhaled deeply. “Okay, Bruce,” he said, despite wanting to ask Bruce to stay, despite wanting to beg him for a little more time. _Just a little more_. “Go ahead, rest.”

Once again, Clark watched Bruce fall asleep. He marvelled at every little detail on Bruce’s beautiful face; the wrinkles on his forehead, the curve of his nose and lips, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Clark watched the weary lines smoothen out and felt the grip on his hand loosen as Bruce plunged deeper into slumber. Focusing on Bruce’s heartbeat, Clark let his husband sleep, because he knew that more than anything, Bruce _deserved_ this. After all he had done, he deserved an undisturbed rest.

Bruce’s heart stopped beating 4 hours later. Only then did Clark let himself go, allowed himself to wail. Most of the people in the room, if not all, cried with him, but he could barely hear them. All of his senses, his mind, his body, his whole being still desperately clung to his last moments with the love of his life.

 _Just a little more, Bruce_ , he thought. _Damian and Kon are doing so well already, as well as the others. I just have to stay here and help them for a little longer. And then I'll join you._

As he finally released Bruce’s cold and limp hand from his own, he knew that he would hold on to this, the memory of the very last time he watched Bruce fall asleep, always and forever. Until the moment that they could be together again.

 _Just a little more_.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews/comments are welcome and appreciated! Come say hi on tumblr: [underwoodclaire](http://underwoodclaire.tumblr.com/) (writing/rp blog if that’s your thing, though I am less active here) and [justiceclique](http://justiceclique.tumblr.com/) (personal/fandom/mostly-DC side blog)


End file.
